By Lily Cheney (‘22)
Here is the truth of a poor brother and sister:
He wasn’t a boy till he had his first pair of shoes; the girl wasn’t a woman till she had her first hairbrush.
The only thing they had was a cave and a fire.
The fire, signifying hope to the children; releasing all their struggles and secrets.
They sit huddled by the fire, their thoughts ramble.
He clears his cold throat and says,
We are free to leave, no chains can trap us here,
Only the sun can guide us on,
The only thing that remains secret are the ashes.